


Make Me Promise

by samalander



Series: 30 Seconds of Mindless Panic [2]
Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Anal, Anal Sex, Birthday, Bottom Steve, Fingering, Fireworks, First Time, HSAU, Homophobia, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-28
Updated: 2012-06-28
Packaged: 2017-11-08 18:37:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/446253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samalander/pseuds/samalander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theatre HSAU: Steve's 18th birthday comes in the summer before he and Tony leave for college. They celebrate with their first time together. PWP.</p><p>Warning for an awareness of society's homophobia, brief mentions of sexual contact occurring before both parties were 18.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Me Promise

**Author's Note:**

> A few things:  
> 1\. I'm pretty sure that this is not what people meant when they said they wanted more in this verse, but this is what happened when I sat down to do more - I found myself overwhelmed with the future I saw for these two, which is not exactly a happy one.
> 
> 2\. I imagine they live in Oregon, somewhere in the Willamette valley, but I left it purposely vague.
> 
> 3\. Thanks to emmypenny, who actually likes butts, which is more than I can say for myself. Without her this would have been a much more difficult feat. Also to theoreticalpixy, who always helps me get unstock.
> 
> 4\. Title is from "Bare: A Pop Opera":  
>  _One forever; can you feel it?  
>  I'm so happy. Does it show?  
> Baby, you are all I need  
> Hold me; don't let go  
> One tomorrow; make me promise  
> God you have such pretty eyes  
> Baby, you are all I need  
> I have butterflies  
> One connection; One you promised,  
> One religion; One today  
> Here inside you I am certain:  
> You can help me find my way_

The way Tony Stark figured, he was good at exactly three things in life: first, he was a kickass engineer/stage carpenter/all-around builder of things. He saw how the world fit together without ever trying, just instinctively knew how to make something happen, make something work. Two, he was filthy fucking rich, and since he had turned 18 and his trust had matured into enough send him to MIT about three times, he had no qualms about spending for his friends, buying whatever it was people were pretending they didn't really want. Finally, he was possibly the world's best boyfriend, and even when he fucked up, which was less often than one might think for Tony Stark, he had a flair for the apology, so things tended to work out in his favor.

The person on the receiving end of his Best Boyfriend credentials was Steve Rogers, his best friend, Stage Manager, and partner in crime. They were quiet about the fact that they dated, but when school had let out for the summer they had agreed; it was two and a half months to the end of the world, they should cherish it.

So Tony spent his summer by his pool or in his workshop, diligently ignoring that time was ticking down, and Steve worked with his little protege, Clint, mowing lawns and mucking out gutters and being all-around Good Guys. Tony liked to show up on hot days and watch them without shirts, but Steve had started complaining that the catcalling was distracting, so he tried not to do it too often.

Steve's birthday was as all-American as Steve himself; the fucking fourth of July, of course, so Tony had started planning months in advance, before they knew what colleges they were going to, before they had agreed that the end of the summer could be the end of them. That agreement didn't change Tony's plans a single whit.

Steve got two instructions - dress nicely and be ready at 6:30. Tony liked surprises, as long as he wasn't on the receiving end, and Steve made the most adorable faces when Tony was being sweet.

So, come the fourth, Tony spent the entire day rebuilding his dad's lawn mower for fun and distraction, whiling down the hours until his date. 

Tony pulled up to Steve's house at 6:35, in his best suit and carrying, of all things, a bouquet of flowers that Jarvis had ordered. He toyed briefly with the idea of honking, but decided to be a gentleman - he threw the Jag into park and marched up the well-loved front walk to the door, ringing the bell.

Steve's grandmother, a little woman of about 152 (as near as Tony could tell - he wasn't as good at ages when they went past 40) answered the door.

"Hi, Mrs. Grant!" Tony smiled, and she eyed the bouquet in his hand.

"Anthony. Did you bring me flowers?"

God save him, Tony liked Steve's Gram. She was a sassy old broad, and she never seemed to care that Tony and Steve were two boys dating each other, even if Steve said she prayed for them extra hard on Sundays.

"No, ma'am, these are for Steven."

"My Steven?" Mrs. Grant raised her eyebrow. "I think you'd better give those here, Steven'll just try to eat them or some other nonsense."

"Gram?" Steve's voice proceeded his footsteps; he was coming from the back of the house, where his bedroom was, and Tony found himself straining for the first glance of his gorgeous boyfriend.

Steve emerged from the hallway, fixing his cuffs, and Tony was torn between salivating and laughing. His suit was slate gray, probably some kind of poly-wool blend that he'd gotten for $40 at Walmart on sale, and about a size and a half too small for him- the jacket pulled across his shoulders even when it was unbuttoned, and the pants already showed a thin sliver of black sock. Tony loved Steve, he really did, but sometimes he wished that Steve would actually accept gifts from him when it mattered - even though Steve still managed to look beautiful in it, this suit was too small for his frame and too warm for July, and Tony could have gotten him a better one without even trying.

"Did you bring Gram flowers?" Steve asked, grinning at Tony.

"No, I brought you flowers. She stole them."

Steve's grandmother looked scandalized. "Anthony, if you want to take my grandson out, you'd better be a gentleman."

Steve grinned and leaned over to give his grandma a peck on the forehead.

"He always is, Gram, to the best of his abilities."

She cast a judging look at Tony, but said nothing.

"I'll have Steve in by one, Mrs. Grant," Tony said, grinning his ‘parents-love-me' smile at her, and she smiled back. 

"Okay. I'll be in bed, Steven, so be quiet," she said, retreating into the kitchen with the flowers, in theory to put them in a vase.

"Yes, ma'am," Steve called after her, before he reached out for Tony's hand, and gave it a warm squeeze. "Hi."

"Hi," Tony said, returning the squeeze and leaning in to give Steve a small kiss on the lips. They were always discrete, they had to be. It was just safer that way. "Ready to go?"

Steve nodded, and they stepped into the evening air. "You brought the jag?" Steve asked, eyeing the little green convertible.

Tony shrugged. "What's the use in being obscenely wealthy if you can't tool around in a crotch rocket with your boyfriend?"

Steve shrugged. "I wouldn't know."

Tony stepped around the car to open Steve's door for him, and Steve cast him a look. "You're being sweet."

"I'm always sweet."

"Liar. What did you do?"

"Hey!" Tony stuck his tongue out at Steve.

Steve laughed. "Experience is a harsh teacher."

"I can't be nice to my boyfriend on his birthday?"

Steve shrugged, and leaned over the car door, bringing their faces within centimeters of each other, but not closing in for the kiss. "Thank you, Tony," he whispered.

"Happy birthday," Tony said. "And get in the car. I have plans for you."

Steve got in the car.

* * *

The restaurant was extravagant, but Tony didn't care, and Steve took some level of joy in being a little out of place. He wanted to try escargot and fois gras and all the things he'd never get usually, because Steve was, if nothing else, really into trying new things.

Tony was actually a little in awe, watching him. He and Steve had been out to eat before, of course, Taco Bell during hell week and pad thai on Tash's birthday and a million other group meals in the woodroom, but he knew that was Steve's norm, and this was Tony's.

So when Steve picked the right fork every time and knew how to pronounce most - if not all - the words on the menu, Tony couldn't help but grin.

"What?" Steve asked, as the waiter cleared their dishes away and refilled their drinks. Tony had wanted wine, but Steve was still Steve, and insisted that they were 18 and driving, so Tony agreed to behave.

"Where did you learn to handle this stuff?"

Steve shrugged. "I'm pretty sure Gram read me Emily Post in the cradle."

"Emily who?"

"Miss Manners, then. How did _you_ learn this stuff?"

Tony laughed again, and reached out for Steve's hand. Steve touched his fingers lightly to Tony's palm and then pulled back. Tony felt the loss in the pit of his stomach, but he understood. Not here, not this place. This wasn't safe.

"It comes written on every thousand dollar bill," he said, praying the hurt of the small rejection didn't bleed through into his voice.

"Of course."

"I like seeing you in this-- you know, like this."

"Like what?" Steve looked incredulous. "Crammed into a suit and strangled by a tie?"

Tony nodded. "It does wonders for your package."

Steve rolled his eyes, but there was a grin on his face. "What did you mean?"

"I mean, this is-- I was eating at places like this when I was still in diapers. If you-- I mean, If I-- I we-- It's nice to see that this is somewhere you fit."

Steve stared.

"What?" Tony asked, looking for a spot on his tie.

"You're really kinda sweet, you know that?"

Tony shrugged. "It's your birthday. I have to be sweet. It's the rules."

Steve nodded. "And what are the rules for after-dinner activities?"

Tony flashed a smile that he hoped was mischievous as the waitress arrived with desert. "That, Steven, is a surprise."

* * *

Tony was really a spectacular boyfriend. If they gave out awards, they could call them the Boyfriendies or whatever, he would get all of them. He had, in a fit of inspiration, taken off his tie as they got in the car after dinner, and looped it loosely around Steve's eyes.

And now he was driving them up to the hills to watch fireworks.

The best thing about living in a valley and having a boyfriend whose birthday was a national holiday was that there were some spectacular pyrotechnics provided free of charge and without obtaining a permit, and there were multiple awesome vantage points.

He pulled onto the road where he'd planned to watch from - empty, thank god - and put the car into park.

"Okay," Tony said, checking his watch. They had three minutes. "You can take it off."

Steve slid the tie off his eyes and looked around. "Where are we?"

"In a car."

"Where is the car, smartass?"

"You remember where we had Bruce's birthday picnic last year?"

"On the hill? Yeah."

"We're near there."

Steve studied Tony's face in the half-light of the instrument panel. "And what are we doing up the hill, Tony?"

"Well," Tony grinned as his watch alarm went off. 8:30 on the nose, and the first colorful explosion rocked the air in front of them, causing Steve to jump and swear. "Language, Mr. Rogers."

"Excuse me, Mr. Stark. And here I thought we were under attack."

Tony laughed and pretended to yawn, telegraphing his intent to slide his arm around Steve's shoulders. Steve leaned into him until his body was bent awkwardly across the center console, and his head was on Tony's shoulder, the next firework lighting the sky with flecks of gold and green.

"It's beautiful," Steve said, as three, four more went off in the air, a flower pattern or something, casting their flickering glow across his face. "I've never seen them from up here before."

"I love you," Tony told him, resting his cheek on the top of Steve's head.

"I love you, too," Steve smiled, and he moved his head to press an awkward kiss to Tony's neck. "But you know I would have been happy with Domino's and Netflix, right?"

"I know," Tony said, his voice catching in his throat. He was not going to do that, he was not going to cry on Steve's birthday, he was not going to ruin everything by dwelling on the fact that the summer was half over and they were leaving because this was going to be a perfect birthday if it killed him. "I just-- I want to give you everything."

Steve grinned. "I can live with everything," he whispered, and tilted his head up again. Tony leaned down this time, and their lips met. He would have loved to have better timing, to have fireworks explode right as they kiss connected, but this was real life and no one had yet granted him the god-like powers he kept requesting for birthdays and Christmases, so instead one went off a few moments into the kiss, and then Tony stopped counting them as Steve shifted into a more comfortable position and started kissing like he meant it, one hand on Tony's hip, his thumb rubbing circles into the joint.

Tony felt his breath catch as Steve's other hand came to rest on his chest, his artistically long fingers finding Tony's nipple and giving a playful pinch.

"You're feisty tonight," Tony laughed, and Steve pressed a kiss to the corner of his jaw and his fingers dipped below Tony's waistband.

"Fiesty? What are you, my Gram?"

"Oh god, do you go around putting your hands down your Gram's pants?"

Steve snorted a laugh. "Only on laundry day."

A few more fireworks exploded in front of them, and behind Tony's eyes as Steve's hands continued to roam across his body, soft teasing touches that made his breath short and his heart pound, and Tony swiped his tongue over his lips,before he tangled his hands in Steve's hair and they got back to kissing, though Tony felt a momentary pang that Steve's messy mop would soon be gone, lost to an overzealous barber and the ROTC.

"You okay?" Steve asked, bringing his hand up to cup Tony's jaw.

Tony shrugged. "Yeah, just-- I wish you didn't have to cut your hair off. What'll I grab onto?"

Steve smiled. "It'll be different, but you'll find something else about me to like."

"I know," Tony smiled.

Steve kissed him again, softly. "So," he looked down and blushed. "There's something I want. Something special, for my birthday."

"Anything," Tony sighed. "Anything you want."

Steve grinned wide, and Tony felt his heart jump in his chest, but that was always how he felt when Steve grinned at him, and his breath caught as Steve leaned in again, his breath hot on Tony's ear.

"I want you to fuck me," Steve breathed, barely more than a whisper in the still car, punctuated perfectly by the fireworks still exploding in front of them.

Tony leaned back to look at Steve's face, taking in the brilliant blue of his eyes around his blown pupils. They'd talked about it before, a few times, but they'd always agreed to hold off, settling for sloppy blow jobs and frantic hands jerking each other off. The idea of penetration, of actually getting to _fuck_ was intoxicating.

"Are you sure?"

Steve nodded eagerly. "More than sure. I love you, Tony. It's all I could think about, all day. I can't - I need it."

Tony let out a shaky breath. "Okay," he said. "But not here."

Steve sat back in his seat, buckling his belt with a final click. "Your place or mine?"

Tony put the car into reverse, aching to speed down the hill and across the valley, aching to throw his chair back and let Steve climb onto him, aching to have, to feel, to touch. "Mine," he said.

* * *

They stumbled through the front door of Stark Manor, hands fumbling at each others buttons, jackets long forgotten in the car, desperately pulling at belts and kicking off shoes.

"Bedroom," Tony breathed, and Steve nodded, pausing on the staircase to shove Tony against the wall and kiss him with bruising intensity.

"I want," Steve breathed. "I want you, I want you Tony, I love you."

Tony kissed him back. " _Everything_ ," he murmured. "Everything for you, Steve, I promise."

Somehow they made it up the stairs, still pulling at clothes, the seam on the left leg of Steve's pants finally giving up the ghost and ripping open as he tried to step out of them. He fell, laughing, onto Tony's bed, pulling Tony down on top of him and arching his back, letting the bare skin of his chest scrape against Tony's undershirt.

"Gonna make you feel good, baby," Tony growled, nipping at the skin under Steve's ear, his hands busy shoving Steve's boxers down over his hips. "Tell me what you want."

"Want-" Steve panted, interrupted by a moan as Tony licked down his throat "-want you naked."

Tony grinned. "I can do that," he said, sitting up onto his knees to pull off his shirt, exposing his chest. Steve did what he always did when faced with Tony's body - he reached a reverent hand out and traced the scar on his boyfriend's chest with his fingertips. Tony had always hated his scar, hated that he was born broken, that every fifteen years they'd need to crack him open and fix the moving parts of his heart, but Steve had a way of touching it, of loving that flaw, that made Tony feel whole. He smiled and captured Steve's hand, pressing a kiss to the tips of his fingers, before sliding off the bed to remove his pants, joining Steve in nakedness.

There was such a contrast between their bodies, and Tony loved it, loved looking at every inch of Steve, from the smoothness of his chest to the fair, wiry hairs that snaked from his navel to his cock, which was thicker than Tony's own, perfect really, the best part of his perfect body.

"You," Tony groaned, wrapping a fist around his dick and giving it a quick jack, "are so fucking gorgeous, baby."

Steve made a noise that was more a string of syllables than anything else and reached for Tony. He wanted to give in, wanted to fall into the embrace, but he held up a single finger and turned to the bureau, fishing out a condom and a bottle of lube.

"I thought I was the boy scout," Steve laughed, as Tony tossed his gains onto the bed and returned to the visual feast that was Steve's naked form.

"Always prepared," Tony smiled, kneeling on the bed, running his hand up Steve's thigh, stopping just short of his cock. "Flip over for me? Hands and knees."

Steve complied, pushing himself up onto all fours, the swell of his ass tempting in its perfection. Tony took a shuddering breath. "I'm-- tell me if this is good," he whispered, and leaned it to press a kiss to the small of Steve's back.

Slowly, Tony slipped his hands up Steve's legs, coming to rest on his ass. He took a shuddering breath - he'd read about this, it was all over the internet, but this was a first for him, and he set his jaw. Best. Birthday. Ever.

Tony leaned down and, in a single move, parted Steve's cheeks with his hands and licked a long, slow path between them.

Steve let out a noise that was part yelp, part moan, and Tony stopped. "Okay?"

"More than- Tony- okay. Very okay," Steve panted, and Tony smiled to himself, noting the sweat that was starting to gather at the back of Steve's neck.

If nothing else could be said about Tony Stark, he was a fucking genius, and he set about the job of rimming his boyfriend with the same singular concentration he would have normally reserved for calculus and physics - slow, methodical, and uninterrupted, he began tracing patterns across Steve's ass with his tongue, inscribing equations and love letters into the sensitive flesh with his tongue.

Steve swore, his back arching and breath catching in hiccups and half-sobs as Tony worked, slipping his tongue inside Steve before pulling back and teasing, feathersoft kisses and licks along every centimeter he could reach.

"Tony, god, Tony, I, I love you so much, go, please, more--" Steve was begging, his head hanging heavy between his shoulders, arms shaking with tension and what Tony would like to assume was lust.

"Okay," he whispered, laying his palm against the broad plane of Steve's back. "Alright. Wanna do this face-to-face, baby, or like this?"

Steve coughed out another sob of air. "Wanna see you," he breathed, and Tony started applying pressure guiding Steve onto his back.

Steve's face was wrecked when he turned over, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead and his eyes almost black with lust, lips red and swollen from kissing, dented from his teeth where he had been biting the bottom one, like he always did when he was overwhelmed. Tony thought he had never seen anything more beautiful.

He grabbed the bottle of lube, squeezing a liberal amount onto his palm.

"The internet says I should go slow, okay? I don't wanna hurt you."

Steve nodded, huffing out a laugh. "What did you google, ‘how do I give it to my boyfriend in the butt?'"

Tony had no intention of telling him how close he was to the truth, so he lifted Steve's left leg onto his shoulder and dipped a singled lube soaked finger down to trace the length of Steve's cock, paused to cup his balls and finally sank lower, coming to rest against his hole.

"Ready?" Tony breathed, and Steve nodded. "Just relax, baby, I got you."

Tony had no intention of letting Steve know they were both feeling anxious, so he plastered on his cocky grin as he slid a finger inside of Steve, their eyes locked in a stare that Tony could only guess was something like liquid intensity.

His fingertip just barely inside, Tony paused. "Still good?"

Steve nodded. "I can take it," he said, and Tony slid the finger home.

Steve shuddered, his breathing hitched and uneven. "Relax, baby, shhh," Tony cooed. "I'm not gonna move until you're ready."

Steve swallowed hard. "Maybe - more lube?"

Tony nodded, grabbing the bottle with his free hand and pouring a copious amount of the fluid onto the place - the fucking _amazing_ place - where their bodies met. Fuck the sheets, he thought, and he pressed a reverent kiss to Steve's thigh. "Like that?"

Steve nodded curtly. "I think - maybe. Try- try moving?"

Tony took a deep breath and pulled his hand back gently, watching Steve's face as he began to move it back in, setting up a slow, gentle rhythm.

"Doing okay?"

Steve nodded, his eyes shut tightly and hands fisted in the sheets, and Tony settled in for the long haul, wrapping his free around Steve's cock and pumping it in tandem.

"Love you so much," he whispered. "Steve, look at me, I love you. Breathe, baby. Tell me how you're doing."

Steve opened his eyes, fixing his gaze on Tony's face. "I love you too," he whispered. "I'm-- I'm good. Nervous. Good."

Tony nodded and stilled his hands. "Okay. Want me to keep going?"

Steve nodded desperately, and Tony took the moment to pull his finger free, adding more lube to his hand before plunging back in.

Steve gasped at the intrusion, and Tony slowed his pace, waiting for him to relax again and pressing another warm kiss to the thigh next to his head. When he felt the tight ring of muscle around his finger relax, Tony grinned wickedly, sliding his finger home before twisting his wrist and crooking his finger.

Steve cried out, his back arching at the new sensation, and Tony wanted, more than anything, to take Steve's cock in his mouth, to swallow around it and give his boyfriend the best of all the things he could give, but he schooled himself to patience, repeating the motion over and over until the pulse point in Steve's neck throbbed, and Tony grinned wickedly.

"How do you feel about another finger?"

Steve nodded desperately, and Tony repeated the process - more lube, slow penetration, a twist of the wrist, and a gasping, arching Steve. Like the best kind of chemistry he knew, the most reliable equation. 

Tony was anxious for more, anxious to have Steve, finally _have_ him, but he schooled himself to patience, adding more lube and talking Steve through it as he added a third finger and, finally, with a shitton of lube, easing a fourth in with them.

Steve shuddered with stimulation, his cock hard and leaking against his stomach.

"Tony, please," he panted, his fingers flexing and curling. "Please fuck me, please."

Tony smiled, trying not to let on that he was a wrecked as Steve was, had gotten and stayed painfully hard watching this beautiful man come apart as his touch. "Yeah," he whispered, "yeah, okay."

Tony pulled back and grabbed the condom from the mess that was his sheets, tearing the foil open and rolling it down his length.

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Why do you-"

Tony shrugged, pouring more lube - the bottle was mostly empty now, he worried he wouldn't have enough - onto his cock, spreading it with his hand. "Internet said."

Steve nodded. "Don't wanna get me pregnant."

"We have such bright futures," Tony said. He was almost giddy that, even as desperate as they were for each other in that moment, they were still _them_ , the wise-cracking best friends-turned-boyfriends they had always been. "Are you ready?"

Steve nodded, and Tony returned to his spot between his legs, hitching Steve's knee onto his shoulder again, and lining himself up. "I love you," he said, because he was pretty sure he couldn't say it enough, not tonight. Not ever.

"Love you," Steve echoed, and let out a groan as the head of Tony's cock breached him.

"Okay?" Tony asked, pausing and breathing hard. Steve nodded.

"Give me a sec. And lube. More lube."

Tony emptied the bottle onto his cock, and waited for Steve's signal to move again. It was slow going - not because Tony had some monster between his legs, but because it was so new for them, so frightening in the best way, and he wasn't going to hurt Steve, wasn't going to hurt himself, by doing it wrong - but eventually Tony had the heady realization that he was actually fucking Steve, that his cock was in Steve's ass and they were _having sex_ and he was holding still not for Steve's comfort but to stave off his own orgasm, to deal with the situation without ending it.

"I'm not gonna last," he panted. "Not gonna, Jesus, look at you. You're fucking gorgeous, you know that?"

Steve smiled up at him, raising a hand to Tony's face. "Speak for yourself," he said, and Tony couldn't help it. He didn't _care_ that he'd been licking Steve's ass, he had to kiss him, had to feel them _together_.

Steve moaned into the kiss. Tony couldn't take it - he tried to remember everything he'd read, tried to be gentle and just rock his hips but it was so much, so good - he began to move, to gain friction, one hand braced on the bed next to Steve's head and one hand reaching down to wrap around Steve's dick, jacking it with a twist of the wrist the way he knew Steve liked.

Neither of them lasted long, but Tony was proud that he lasted a few seconds longer than Steve, long enough to watch his golden boyfriend come undone below him, face flushing red and eyes screwed shut as he shot his orgasm between them, streaking Tony's chest and stomach with white.

Tony was gone after that, his own release pooling in the condom he thought he might understand the use for - at least they wouldn't have to clean _that_ up.

Steve smiled up at him, his eyelids drooping in sleep, and Tony rolled off him, pulling loose from Steve's body to roll the condom off.

"You okay?" he asked, contemplating the five steps to the bathroom for a warm washcloth, deciding it was too far, and doing his best to wipe himself clean with a tissue from the box on his bed stand before offering the box to Steve.

"Yeah," Steve whispered. "Will you- what's the time?"

"‘Leven-thirty," Tony said. "We can take a nap." He scooped his watch from where it had been discarded at some point or another, setting the alarm for 12:30 and holding it up so Steve saw.

"Come here," Steve said, holding out his arms, and Tony crawled into them, reaching up to hit the lightswitch by his bed, plunging the room into darkness, the only light left spilling under his door from the hallway.

"I love you," Tony whispered resting his head on Steve's chest, and Steve pressed a sleepy kiss to his forehead.

"You too."

Steve's breathing evened out, his arms slackening their grip on Tony as sleep took him.

"Steve?" Tony asked gently.

When there was no reply, he let out a hiccuping sob that had been threatening to escape all night. He loved Steve, he really did, but if there was one constant in Tony Stark's life, it was that the people he loved would leave him.

And no matter how close Maryland was to Massachusetts, no matter how much they wanted to be together, the fact was that in a month, they would be leaving for separate colleges and Tony was pretty sure he was going to be losing the best thing that had ever happened to him.

A tear slipped down his nose, landing somewhere on Steve's chest, and it was followed by another and another, until Tony was crying in earnest, for the first time since he was a little kid. Steve stirred at the noise.

"I love you," Tony whispered to the darkness. "Please don't go."

Steve‘s arms tightened around Tony, and he pulled him into a kiss.

"I'm right here," he said, and Tony didn't bother to explain what he had really meant. It wasn't the point.

"I know."

"We'll make it work," Steve whispered, a hitch in his own voice. "We'll figure it out. You and me, Tony."

"Promise?"

Steve hesitated, and Tony was furious at himself for demanding, for asking. 

"I wanna give you everything, Tony," Steve said, his fingers playing across the short hairs at the base of Tony's neck. "I promise."


End file.
